𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 | 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳

13 || Goodbye

"It was your mother's love that saved you. Voldemort could not stand to be touched by something so pure, for he is so evil."

"And the Stone?"

"Destroyed."

"But-sir-Nicolas Flamel-"

"You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Nicolas and Perenelle have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order, and then yes, they will die."

"Just like that?"

"Harry, to the well-organized mind, death is the next great adventure."

I cracked my eyes open with difficulty, locating the owners of the voices-Harry and Professor Dumbledore. Between the two of our beds were mountains of sweets on a white table. I heard shuffling and closed my eyes once more, feeling as if I shouldn't have heard their conversation.

"Ashlynn, you may open your eyes."

"I'm sorry, sir-"

"No need to apologize," Dumbledore said kindly, smiling at me.

"Harry? Are you alright?" I said immediately. He nodded, though the effort seemed to pain him.

"How long have we been out?"

"Three days, give or take," Dumbledore replied. "The candy is from your many admirers. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley have been in here the most."

"And are they okay?"

"Yes, I assure you Ronald was healed at once."

I let out a breath of air.

"I must thank you, Ashlynn."

"For what?" I said, struggling to sit up, but managing to get in a half-up position. Harry started to unwrap a chocolate frog.

"For standing by Harry," he peered at me through his half-moon spectacles. "It took a great deal of courage to face Voldemort, when he is not your enemy."

"Any enemy of Harry's is an enemy of mine."

"Yes, I know," he said, eyes twinkling. "But you must promise me something, Ashlynn." He leaned over to whisper in my ear.

"Be very, very careful."

"What do you mean-?" Dumbledore only patted my shoulder, with an expression of sadness in his bright blue eyes.

"We did it," Harry said once Dumbledore left.

"You mean you did it," I laughed, though my chest hurt when I did so. "You were the one Quirrell couldn't touch."

"I guess," He said, but he sounded unconvinced.

"Madam Pomfrey?" I asked. Almost as if she appeared out of thin air, she came around the corner at once.

"Yes?"

"Can Hermione and Ron come in?"

"No visitors!" she squawked.

"But we're resting," I pointed out. "We're in bed."

"Fine," she said sniffily. "But five minutes only." Harry watched the interaction with a bemused expression and Hermione and Ron came in not two seconds later, like they had been waiting outside.

"Oh, Ashlynn, I'm so glad you're alright!" Hermione said, restraining herself from throwing her arms around me. (Thank goodness, I was pretty sure my rib was broken.)

"Everyone's talking about it," Ron said, grabbing a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. "What really happened?"

Harry and I took turns explaining what really went down with Quirrell and the Stone, as well as Voldemort. Hermione screamed out loud when I described what was under Quirrell's turban.